Wingtips
by sapphireswimming
Summary: A collection of short episode related fics. 9.09 Holy Terror: The kid was dead, and he was still absolutely right.
1. Last Will and Testament

**A collection of short, drabblish, fics updated as they pop into my head. Many will be tied to an episode.**

**Also ignore whatever I do with titles. I don't know how to come up with them anymore.**

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**Last (free) Will and (new) Testament**

Season 1, Episode 12: _Faith_

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"We still have options," Sam said, pleading with Dean for it to be true.

But his older brother shook his head as much as he was able to do around the tubes hooking him up to the beeping machine beside him. "What options?" he asked. "We've got burial or cremation."

Which, for a hunter's family, of course, is no option at all. Every soldier who fell in this war was burned so they couldn't come back as ghosts that knew the tricks of the trade. The Winchesters had long since known that they would follow in Mary's footsteps, leaving behind a headstone marking nothing but an empty casket or a handful of ashes.

Even with that knowledge, Dean's words came like a punch to Sam's gut. The way they cut so easily through the façade he was desperately trying to maintain, that they could do this, that he could save him, that they could actually be brothers now that they were finally learning how to do it again.

But no, here was Dean, trying to make light of the fact that he's dying even while hammering the point home. The quip was supposed to make Sam smirk, just the tiniest bit in this dismal room, but was actually a testament to the fact that there were no options.

There just weren't. And Dean was going to die like this.


	2. Final Answer

**Haha, and he's not really wrong. XD  
**

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**Final Answer  
**

_._

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Dean rapped on the door tentatively, wishing that Sam had chosen to conduct this interview. If he had known he'd choose the library duty instead of the girl (she was even a brainiac- just up his alley!- and if there was one thing Sam liked more than books it was people) he would have thrown paper.

But he had been so sure… and had underestimated his younger brother once again and so it was him standing in front of the door as a modestly dressed woman clutched the door frame and stared at him warily.

"Mrs. Holloway?"  
"Yes."

"My name is Dean. I'm a friend of your daughter's. I just heard about the accident and wondered if I might be able to, uh, come in…?" He shifted and gave her a hopeful smile.

She hesitated, looked up as if she could see through the ceiling before replying, "Elizabeth hasn't really been talking to anyone about… I don't know…"

"Well, it couldn't hurt if you asked, now could it?"

"Come on in…" she trailed off as Dean let himself into the living room.

"I'll just… go let her know you're here. Maybe she will come down…"

Dean took a seat on the nearest couch. The woman had almost started up the stairs when she turned around. "How do you know my daughter?"

"School," he said, hoping that the girl would remember him and Sam from the funeral, or at least, play along.

Mrs. Holloway looked at him oddly.

"High school," Dean added, hoping she wouldn't press him for details. He couldn't even remember what college the girl went to and saying the wrong name would probably get him booted out. But apparently, he'd given the wrong answer because the woman came back down the steps and pinned him with a stare.

"Elizabeth was home schooled."

Oh.

Dean froze for a moment, then shrugged and replied, "So was I."


	3. In the Right Order

**By all rights, it should be the other way around.  
**

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**In the Right Order  
**

Sam? Dean? Sam and Dean. – Ash

Season 2, Episode 5: _Simon Said_

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It was _Sam and Dean_. Always had been, as long as there had been a Sam and a Dean.

Dean had noticed, though, as they haphazardly toured the country and met family after family that there was a different pattern. Often, the older child was named first. Or, barring that, introductions were conducted in alphabetical order.

"Sam and Dean" didn't meet either criterion.

That was okay, though. Dean had tried saying it the other way once, when he was alone in a motel room. It hadn't felt right.

It wasn't the way their family worked, even though his had been the only name for three and a half years. He realized it belonged second. He wondered, though, how long ago it had been that his father had decided that Sam was the more important one and decided to broadcast the fact to everyone as soon as they met.


	4. Always

**Spoilers for the season nine midseason finale, in case you couldn't tell. Happy un-hiatus, everyone. Let us see what tonight brings... :/  
**

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**Always  
**

I always trust you. – Kevin

Season 9, Episode 9: _Holy Terror  
_

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_You're gonna have to trust me, okay?_ That was what he had said, because he had had such a brilliant, fool proof, angel banishing plan.

_Just trust me._ But when had things ever gone right for any of them and why had he thought that he couldn't trust Kevin enough with the plan that he couldn't ask him anything more than theoretical questions, that he couldn't explain the sigils they had painted on the walls?

Maybe if he had, the prophet would have been able to ensure that they hadn't been tampered with when they were ready to begin. Maybe Kevin wouldn't have stuck his nose where it didn't belong and wouldn't worry about _his_ safety when he was the one standing in the way of the hijacking angel with a mission to take him out.

Maybe he would still be…

_I always trust you. And I always end up screwed._

The breath caught in his throat as he slid down the column to rest on the floor.

_Kevin? _

_Kevin?_

Gaping black holes stared at him from where the boy's eyes should have been. Steam was still rising from them.

_Oh come on. Always? Not _always.

The first tear fell openly down his face before he covered it with his hands and tried to block it out, hold it back, hold himself together, even if there was no one to do it for anymore.

Bobby was dead and his stand in Garth hadn't been heard of in over a year. Their prophet was dead. Cas was on a mission of his own with mysteriously patched up grace. And Sam was possessed by a hostile angel and miles away.

There would be no help this time. He didn't even have a clue as to where to begin

He was truly alone except for the corpse of the advanced placement student he had kept quarantined here to protect.

"You're right," he choked out when the tears had finally let him think again. "Always." He wiped his hands down his face. "I'm sorry. I am so… so sorry."


End file.
